


Forfeit

by Adsullatta



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Cock Tease, M/M, PWP, excessive smirking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-22
Updated: 2014-02-22
Packaged: 2018-01-13 08:11:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1218982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adsullatta/pseuds/Adsullatta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur is disparaging and Merlin calls him on it. A challenge is issued, and Arthur has no doubts as to who'll be paying the forfeit when it's all over.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forfeit

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [Kitty](http://archiveofourown.org/users/kitty_fic/pseuds/kitty_fic) for the beta read!

“Come on, how hard can it be? Have you _seen_ our team? They’re all beanpoles and little girls,” Arthur declared scornfully to his teammate Gwaine as they watched the XC team gathered around their coach.

 

“It’s an endurance sport, you twat.” 

 

Arthur spun around to find one of those beanpoles glaring at him with the brightest blue eyes he’d ever seen. Said eyes narrowed down to slits when Arthur shot back,

 

“So is walking but you don’t see them rushing to add that to the games do you? Oh wait, that’s already what you do, only with a pair of skis strapped to your feet.” 

 

“Arthur, come on mate,” Gwaine tried to intervene, a restraining hand on Arthur’s arm. But the XC skier spoke before any restraint could be achieved. 

 

“You couldn’t do it,” he shot at Arthur, eyes hard as flint.

 

“Pardon me?” Pulling away from Gwaine, Arthur found his gaze fixed on his challenger’s lips as they tightened to a thin line. 

 

“You heard me. I said _you_ couldn’t do it,” the beanpole replied, disdain dripping from every syllable. “I bet you don’t even have the endurance of one of those _‘little girls’_ you dismissed so scornfully.”

 

“Hah! I could kick any one of your little arses with my eyes closed and one hand tied behind my back.”

 

“Prove it,” the strange skier snorted.

 

“Why should I bother?” Arthur just could not seem to tear his eyes away from the man’s lips, staring almost obsessively as they pulled up to one side in a challenging smirk.

 

“Let’s say I’m prepared to make it worth your while. What will it take to get you to put your money where your mouth is?”

 

Ripping his eyes away from the man’s lips, Arthur studied his other features with sharpening interest. _”Nice,”_ he thought, as he took in sharp cheekbones, a straight nose and a very stubborn chin. _”Very nice.”_ The man’s hat hid his hair but Arthur could tell from his eyebrows that it was dark-black or possibly a very deep brown.

 

“I don’t need money,” Arthur answered absently, his gaze sliding down the long, skinny length of the man’s body.

 

“I’m aware of that Pendragon, the whole world knows Daddy bankrolls all your antics. I’m not talking money.” 

 

Arthur’s eyes jerked upward at the mention of his name. “You know who I am…who the hell are you?”

 

“Merlin,” the man replied flatly. “Merlin Emrys.”

 

“Well then, _Merlin_ what _are_ you offering?” Arthur asked cockily. He was certain there was nothing that a scrawny runt like this could do that _he_ could not.

 

“What do you want?”

 

Arthur’s gaze dropped once again to Merlin’s mouth, his eyes tracing the finely drawn line of the top lip and the sinfully plush curve of the lower.

 

“Your mouth.”

 

Doing a double take, Merlin blurted, “Wait, what?”

 

“ _You heard me_ ,” Arthur savagely mimicked Merlin’s earlier words. “If I win, you give me a blowjob.”

 

Merlin’s jaw dropped, his luscious lips forming an inviting ‘O’ and Arthur had to stifle a groan at the sight. He seemed to catch on to Arthur’s line of thought rapidly since he quickly snapped his mouth closed, a hectic flush searing across the high arch of his cheekbones. A moment later, that mesmerizing mouth curled up to one side in a satisfied smirk.

 

“Fine, you’re on,” he drawled, his voice deepening. “But I have one condition.”

 

“And what’s that?” Arthur asked, one eyebrow arching in a silent challenge.”

 

“If you lose, I get to claim a forfeit of my own choosing.”

 

Supremely confident in his own abilities, Arthur waved a dismissive hand and replied, “Sure. Whatever you want.”

 

The smirk widened into an outright grin, a gleam of mischief entering Merlin’s eyes.

 

“When’s your last event?”

 

They arranged a time and place and parted ways. Arthur rejoined Gwaine tingling with anticipation for the challenge. He couldn’t help bragging how much he was going to enjoy having Merlin’s plump lips wrapped round his cock in just a few days.

________________________________________________

Arthur slumped to an exhausted seat in the snow, all his muscles burning, unable to believe what a triumphant Merlin had just told him, and a rueful Gwaine had confirmed. He’d _failed_. And not only failed but failed _spectacularly_. He hadn’t even come close to matching the _worst_ of the women’s times over the same course…and he was completely and utterly exhausted from the attempt.

 

Merlin had worked the trail beside Arthur the whole way, breathing steady, not so much as breaking a sweat while Arthur struggled to find a rhythm, let alone a winning pace. He found the long, skinny skis much harder to balance on than he remembered from his few childhood forays into the sport. (He’d quickly dismissed as boring, and forever abandoned it in favor of Alpine skiing.) And he couldn’t _believe_ the strain of it-it seemed that every muscle in his body was aching and burning. He’d been a sweaty, quivering wreck at the end of the 10km course.

 

By contrast, Merlin was chirpy and energized by what he'd cheerfully called a “gentle stretch of the legs”.

 

“You do know the men go for 15km, right?” he taunted, blatantly fingering the bronze medal he’d won just days ago in the aforementioned event.

 

“Shut up, Merlin.”

 

“Just wanted you to know that we _do_ go easy on the little girls.”

 

“Shut. Up. _Merlin_.” 

 

Merlin’s gloating was intolerable, but what made things even worse, Arthur wasn’t sure what else he’d lost since he’d never bothered to inquire what Merlin was planning to claim if Arthur failed. Now it was time to look the smug, grinning bastard in the eye and find out what Arthur had forfeited along with his dignity and self-respect.

________________________________________________

“Are you serious?” Arthur demanded, mouth agape.

 

“As a heart attack.” 

 

Merlin didn’t look serious; in fact, he looked a bit deranged. He’d pulled off his hat to reveal a thick mop of tousled dark hair and a pair of ridiculously prominent ears and was currently standing there grinning at Arthur like a loon. 

 

“A week’s worth of full-body massages,” Arthur repeated Merlin’s claimed forfeit.

 

“Yep,” he answered, head nodding up and down like one of those horrible little, plastic bobble-headed toys.

 

“Don’t you have a physio for that?”

 

“When I’m training I do, but I’ve got a few weeks off after the games. You _are_ planning on returning to London after, are you not?

 

“…yes,” Arthur conceded grudgingly.

 

“Perfect! I’m going to be spending the first part of my vacation at Freya’s flat. You can attend me there in the evenings,” Merlin opined grandly, as if extending a gracious invitation.

 

“Freya?” Arthur thought of the petite, brunette ski-bunny who spent most of her time clinging to Merlin like a limpet.

 

His foe’s expression turned unbearably smug as he announced, 

 

“Yes, she’s one of those ‘little girls’ you were unable to best today. I’m sure she’ll be delighted to have you visit her at home and hear your views on the sport she’s dedicated her life to.”

________________________________________________

Heart in mouth Arthur knocked the door. He was half expecting Freya to answer the door considering it was her flat but instead he nearly swallowed his tongue when the door swung open, to reveal a tousle-haired, smirking Merlin. A smirking Merlin clad in nothing but a loose silk robe open at the top to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of collar bones and the faintest hint of dark chest hair.

 

“Arthur! Right on time to pay your forfeit!” He stepped back, swinging the door wide and gesturing Arthur inside. “Come on in.”

 

He turned away and led Arthur down a short hall to what was obviously the lounge. In the middle of the room, a folding massage table had been set up with a stack of snowy white towels piled at one end.

“Freya’s out for the evening so it’ll just be the two of us,” Merlin said as he crossed the room to move the towels to a nearby table.

 

“She didn’t want to be here?”

 

“Why on earth would she want to sit here and watch me get a massage?”

 

“I don’t know…I mean, she doesn’t mind?”

 

“Mind what?”

 

Deeply uncomfortable with the subject but still desperate for an answer, Arthur blurted, “You know, this…us…me putting my hands all over her boyfriend.”

 

Merlin laughed and shook his head, that fucking smirk widening the curve of his sinful lips…the lips that had gotten Arthur into all this trouble in the first place. “She’s not my girlfriend, she’s just a very good friend. That would be kind of creepy-close to incest. We practically grew up together on the competition circuit.”

 

Arthur couldn’t help the lift of spirits he felt as Merlin’s words sank in. Not his girlfriend!

 

Shaking his head, still chuckling softly, Merlin turned back toward the massage table and slipped the robe off his shoulders letting it slither away to pool on the floor around his feet. Arthur found himself gaping, thinking,

 _”Oh my god, the beanpole’s got muscles!”_ then, _”Of course he’s got muscles you moron, he’s an Olympic class athlete…and a fucking medal winner to boot, something_ you _can’t claim.”_

Arthur knew he shouldn’t be surprised, was actually feeling a bit mortified by his failure of reasoning but, well…Merlin just looked so fucking skinny in his clothes-gangly and sort of shapeless.

Swallowing hard, Arthur shifted uncomfortably as his denims tightened. Merlin was…he was fucking _beautiful_ that’s what he was. 

 

Arthur’s eyes traced over elegant lines of lean, sculpted muscle from the top of Merlin's long neck, down wide sloping shoulders and the inverted triangle of his back. Each bump of his spine formed a faintly visible track leading down to narrow hips and the taut swell of tight buttocks. Finally Arthur's eyes trailed down impossibly long legs, Merlin’s hard wiry muscles shifting beneath skin faintly dusted with fine black hair. 

 

So mesmerized was he by the play of muscles under pale skin as Merlin moved, it didn't even sink in that Merlin was climbing up on the table until one leg parted company from the other. The move gave Arthur a tantalizing glimpse of Merlin’s arse cheeks parting, the sway of his balls visible for just a moment as he shifted sideways, laying on his belly as he brought the other leg up to join its mate. As he settled, Merlin turned his head toward Arthur, resting his cheek against the padded surface of the table. His bright blue eyes fixed challengingly on Arthur and that damnable smirk crept back on his face.

 

“When you’re done staring, there’s oil on the table to your left. Feel free to take your time,” he teased, shifting his legs and raising his bum a little as he spoke.

 

Feeling a blush rise to his cheeks, Arthur stammered, “I wasn’t…I mean I didn’t, I’m not staring! I’m just surprised a bit.” Biting his tongue and cursing his runaway mouth, Arthur turned to the table, giving Merlin his back as he fumbled with the bottle of oil.

 

“Surprised? By…?” he could _hear_ the teasing gloat in Merlin’s voice and it made him flush even harder. Arthur’d never felt so awkward and caught out. How was it that Merlin was constantly getting the better of him?

 

“I just…I don’t know, you just look different then I’d imagined.”

 

“You imagined me naked?” 

 

“No! I mean, well, yeah I guess, I mean…I wasn’t imagining you naked per say, I just didn’t think you’d be so…so…”

 

“What?”

 

When he didn’t answer, Merlin persisted. “So _what?_ ”

 

“Fit!” Arthur blurted the word and immediately wanted to sink through the floor.

 

“Fit?

 

“You know…all buff.”

 

“You mean you didn’t think a _beanpole_ like me might look good under his clothes. Was that it?”

 

That _was_ it but Arthur hardly felt like admitting it aloud. “Look, I just didn’t think about it, OK?”

 

Closing his eyes, Merlin merely hummed an assent but at the same time that irritating smirk of his only widened, the dimple in his visible cheek deepening. Arthur gritted his teeth, got a grip on his libido and approached the table, oil in hand.

 

Merlin’s skin was so snowy white Arthur half expected it to be cool to the touch, but when he tentatively spread oiled palms over the smooth skin of Merlin’s shoulders he found the flesh there invitingly warm and pliant. Smearing the slick, sweet scented massage oil across Merlin’s skin, Arthur slowly began to rub and knead his way down Merlin’s back.

________________________________________________

Arthur left just over an hour later sporting a raging hard on and a miserable flush of embarrassment after the way Merlin’s eyes had flickered over the telltale bulge in Arthur’s denims before rising dismissively to his face.

 

“See you tomorrow Pendragon.”

 

Thankfully the smirk was gone but the inscrutably blank expression that replaced it was almost worse. Arthur didn’t think he’d ever been so turned-on and then so firmly turned-away. As he rode the lift down to the ground floor, he couldn’t help recalling every minute of the excruciating hour just gone.

 

As he’d worked his way over every inch of Merlin’s body, he’d had to fight to maintain his composure as Merlin constantly shifted beneath his hands. He hadn’t tensed or squirmed or jerked away, Arthur probably could have handled that. Instead, Merlin had gone all boneless and pliant, subtly leaning into Arthur’s every stroke, sighs and breathy little moans escaping his from his lips. Shifting restlessly under Arthur’s touch, every few moments Merlin was arching his back ever so slightly, parting his thighs invitingly as his knees inched forward and his bum rose a little higher each time. Arthur pressed him flat the first few times then gave up and carried on. 

 

Periodically, Merlin’s breathy little moans turned into husky voiced murmurs of, “Feels soooo good, Arthur,” or gasps of “Right there, oh yeah…please…more, right there, mmm…” 

 

Getting more and more excited by the minute, Arthur had at least been consoled by the fact that Merlin must be _at least_ as turned on as he was. However when he’d finished, Merlin had rolled onto his back before sitting up and Arthur had been more than a bit crushed to see Merlin’s cock flaccid and relaxed where it rested against his thigh.

 

“That was pretty good,” Merlin had announced, open faced and clear eyed. “I’m gonna sleep like a baby tonight.”

 

That’s when he’d noticed and dismissed Arthur’s humiliating arousal with just a flicker of his long lashes.

________________________________________________

The rest of the week went just as badly for Arthur. He found himself helplessly aroused by Merlin’s teasing (he was _sure_ that’s what it was-the way Merlin moaned and arched into his touch-it just _had_ to be deliberate) despite being casually dismissed at the end of each hour long session.

 

Now, on the seventh and final day of paying his forfeit, Arthur found himself pushed beyond the limits of his endurance. Every teasing moan, every arch of that long, lithe back, every glimpse of the shadowy cleft between parted arse cheeks ratcheted Arthur’s frustration level higher and higher until he finally snapped. As Merlin moaned and lifted his hips yet again, Arthur reached over and ran the tip of an index finger right down the groove between those taut little cheeks. He’d expected a protest but instead, gasping loudly, Merlin brought his knees forward and spread his legs even wider. 

 

Pleasantly surprised, Arthur stroked his way back up to Merlin’s hole and pressed the tip of his finger against the tightly clenched flesh. Merlin moaned, the sound wanton and longing, and pushed back against Arthur’s finger, urging him on.

 

Grabbing the oil and twisting the cap off with his teeth, Arthur sloshed a generous amount of the slick stuff down over Merlin’s arse, letting it drip over his fingers and slide down the hot skin of Merlin’s cleft. Gently massaging the oil around Merlin’s rim, Arthur eased the oiled tip of one finger inside the tight heat. 

 

“Mmmm…feels good,” Merlin murmured, leaning backward encouragingly. 

 

After sliding his finger all the way inside, Arthur withdrew just as slowly, establishing a gentle rhythm. As Merlin began to loosen up around his finger, Arthur withdrew, adding more oil before sliding two fingers back inside. Then he brought his other hand up and gently cupped Merlin’s balls, lightly stroking and squeezing them as he pumped his fingers in and out of Merlin’s hole.

 

“Is this OK?” he asked.

 

“Think it’s a little late to ask for permission now,” Merlin replied, almost moaning the words.

 

“I meant are you enjoying this? Does it feel good?”

 

“It’s fucking fantastic and you know it, you smug bastard,” Merlin gritted back.

 

His confidence increasing with every moment that passed, Arthur chuckled and crooked his fingers ever so slightly as he withdrew them, his fingertips dragging over the nub of Merlin’s prostate. He’d barely grazed the shallow swelling when Merlin cried out, his upper body arching off the table, head flung back in obvious pleasure.

 

“Mmm, God you’re so fucking responsive,” Arthur groaned, his own erection straining the fabric of his jeans.

Enraptured, Arthur stared at Merlin, mesmerized by the flush staining his pale skin pink, by the long, lovely line of his back, and the quivering of his thighs as he strained to remain still under the onslaught of Arthur’s hands.

 

“So fucking beautiful…”

 

“Arthur…” Merlin moaned, “Arthur please…”

 

“What is it, what do you need? Tell me,” Arthur gently demanded, wanting to hear the plea from Merlin’s lips. He had teased Arthur unmercifully over the past week, but Arthur’s desire was for reassurance, not revenge. He needed to know that Merlin really wanted this, wanted _him_.

 

“More, I want more, please Arthur.”

 

“More what, Merlin?”

 

Merlin whimpered in frustration as Arthur’s fingers stilled within him.

 

“More, damn you! More fingers, more pressure, deeper, harder, faster, just… _more!_ ”

 

Complying, Arthur added a third finger and deepened his penetration with every stroke of his hand. Twisting his wrist now and then, adding rotation to the thrust of his fingers in Merlin’s loosened passage, Arthur increased the downward pressure of each stroke to heighten the drag of his fingers over Merlin’s prostate.

 

“Yesss!! Oh, fuck yes! Don’t stop, Arthur, please don’t stop!” Merlin begged.

 

Arthur had no intention of stopping until he drove Merlin over the edge.

 

With that thought he became mindful of his other hand, until this time merely cupping Merlin’s balls as he’d been so focused on Merlin’s arse. Reaching up now, he grasped Merlin’s hard cock, circled it with oil slick fingers and began to stroke.

 

Bucking wildly in Arthur’s grip, Merlin shouted incoherently and trembled all over. Just a few strokes later, his hole began to flutter and tighten around Arthur’s fingers as his cock began to pulse his release over Arthur’s fist. Arthur held steady through Merlin’s orgasm, then released his cock and gently withdrew his fingers from Merlin’s body. The moment he was free, Merlin flopped down on his face in a boneless heap on the padded massage table.

 

Still achingly hard, Arthur ripped open his painfully tight denims and yanked them down along with his pants to free his needy cock for attention. He took a step closer to the head of the table, hoping Merlin would oblige him with the blow job he’d been longing for since first setting eyes on him weeks ago. Lifting a single eyelid, Merlin regarded him through a slitted blue eye and reached out to take Arthur’s cock in hand.

 

As he stroked Arthur to an embarrassingly fast release, he smirked up at him and said, “You still haven’t earned my mouth.”

 

Coming down from his rather desperate orgasm, Arthur vowed silently, 

_”No, but I will…I will.”_


End file.
